


There but for the Grace of God Go I

by caramel_sins



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Eventual Smut, F/M, Slow Burn, TW: Period Typical Racism, Union Organizing, early 1900s, early 20th century, labor strikes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22393303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramel_sins/pseuds/caramel_sins
Summary: In 1909 New York, Rose and the other members of the International Ladies Garment Workers Union (known as the Resistance) are organizing a strike at the First Order Shirtwaist Factory. Hux, a strike breaker in the employ of the First Order, is tasked with stopping the strike before it starts. Unforeseen events and the potential for romance complicate matters.The history nerd Gingerrose fic no one asked for.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico
Comments: 29
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

Hux stood out in front of the factory only slightly obscured by the late afternoon shadows. He slowly lit the cigarette that had sat on his lip for the better part of an hour, unlit. _Weak_ he thought as he let the sweet smoke fill his lungs. He had been trying to quit his only notable vice for the last several weeks but could not shake the habit. He had eschewed drink over a decade prior and he would never call himself much of a womanizer preferring his own company above all others. He had picked up smoking in his youth. An awkward boy he never knew quite what to do with himself in a crowd. Smoking seemed a fine enough activity at the time and he had to admit he liked it from the start. He supposed it was not the worst vice to have. Lord knows other men in his line of work had much worse habits but he did not like the feeling of dependency. Too long without a smoke and he felt anxious and ornery until he fulfilled his desire for another.

This particular breaking of his intended abstinence was due to boredom more than anything else. He had been waiting outside the factory since noon. It was gratefully a nice day. The sun was out but the autumnal air was crisp. If he was one to dwell on natural beauty Hux might call this kind of weather his favorite. But he was not that kind of man so he would not admit that to another soul. Instead he would silently enjoy the weather as he observed the comings and goings of First Order Shirtwaist.

This was not his usual task as one of the top level associates of the company. He usually did not have to trifle with the comings and goings of seamstresses but such were the times they lived. The term “associate” lended a bit too much above board credibility to Hux’s position but that was the title he was given and he was not about to argue. With any luck he would one day be above board and that would not happen if he decided to gripe about his current position. He was a hard worker, single minded, fiercely dedicated to the cause of capital and he was not about to falter. He was no Ren, he knew when he had a good thing going and was not about to ruin it.

The sound of a whistle alerted him to the dismissal of the factory workers. Within moments of its sounding hundreds of young women came bustling out of the front doors. Light chatter and laughter filled the air. Many were arranging their large hats as they shuffled out into the streets. He scanned the crowd trying to locate his targets. He cursed the massive brims of women’s hats and the afternoon sun that allowed their faces to hide in shadow. He searched diligently while trying to remain nonchalant as not to alert anyone to his presence. Though he was not the only young man about waiting for a sister or sweetheart to emerge.

It was by luck that he saw them. If it were not for some mysterious flash of light, perhaps a brooch or necklace catching the sun just the right way, he would never had been drawn to the trio. They looked like most of the women emerging, practical dresses covered in serviceable coats and fashionable hats secured with hat pins on their nicely coiffed hair. Though now that he got a better look at them he supposed he would have noticed them anyway. Well he would have noticed one of them anyway. She was petite and her dark hair had started to escape the bun she had tried to secure it in. She like all the other woman wore a hat and coat but her open duster revealed not a dress but overalls. He almost laughed at the sight. Why in god's name was she dressed like that? Surely that was against Mr. Snoke’s dress code. Yet here she was dressed like a little mechanic under her long coat and lady’s hat.

For some reason the little mechanic looked up then and by some miracle, or curse, looked directly at him. If he were a man who fancied himself a poet, which he most certainly was not, he would have said his heart stopped. It of course did not but he would be lying if he did not start a little when he saw the little mechanic's face. It was beautiful. Soft round cheeks led to soft brown eyes which crinkled with a bright smile. He needed to stop staring but like with the cigarette that now burned between his fingers, he could not stop himself from indulging.

To Hux’s relief (or disappointment) a shout distracted him and the little mechanic. A man with curly dark hair was whistling at the trio of women Hux was supposed to be covertly observing. The whistling man was waving his cap in the air to get their attention as they waded through the sea of young women. He watched as the little mechanic waved back with a wide smile on her full lips. Hux immediately despised the curly haired man for reasons he did not wish to examine closer.

He watched the other two women in the group. They were about the same height and were equally pretty. He noticed one wore her hair in a strange style of three consecutive buns down the back of her head below the rim of her hat. The other’s blonde hair was wrapped in braids her eyebrows arched at the man waving his cap at them. They made their way over to him and with a brief greeting they started to make their way down an alley toward the adjacent street.

As discreetly as possible Hux followed them. From the distance he kept himself he could hear their cheerful chattering but could not make out specific words. He could hear the man’s voice rumbling and then he heard a bark of laughter from one of the women followed by a loudly gasped “Poe!” So Ren had been right their recruiter had been Poe Dameron. It irked Hux slightly that Ren had been right yet again but he did not dwell on it. He watched as they walked out into the sunlight at the end of the alley and took a right. He ran the rest of the way down the alley until reached the end peering out onto the street. As he looked down the street he saw Dameron and only two of the young women with him. The little mechanic had seemed to disappear.

“Excuse me sir, can I help you?” A nice feminine voice asked from behind him. _Jesus, Mary, and Joseph_. Hux winced as he turned around to see the little mechanic. To his relief she seemed to be amused as she looked up at him. He noticed that she had closed her coat so her overalls weren’t visible. Her left hand rested on her hip as she looked at him obviously waiting for an answer.

“No, just passing through.” He tried to sound convincing but knew by the look on her face she did not believe him.

“I saw you, you know, standing by the factory.” Though she had stopped smiling mirth still hid behind her eyes.

“You’re hard to miss. You and that giant you pal around with.” He grimaced. So they knew Ren and him were watching them. At least it wasn’t just him that gave them away.

“What gave us away?” He asked as he pulled another cigarette out of his pocket striking a match on the brick of the building behind him. She watched as he lit the cigarette before she answered.

“Well the Giant would stick out anywhere and he’s as subtle as rock through a window,” she smiled at him her head tilting to the side “Everyone noticed him but I was the only one who noticed you.” If Hux was partial to verse, which he was not, he would say his breath faltered at her admission. He tried to remain collected as he questioned her further.

“And why is that, Miss…”

“Tico. Rose Tico.” She replied sticking her hand out for him to shake. He took it and couldn’t help but imagine if he were a gentlemen and she a society woman he would have kissed the back of it. What in God’s name was wrong with him? He let go of her hand suddenly and shoved his hand in his pocket as the other went to take the cigarette from his mouth.

“Hux.” He replied.

“Just Hux?”

“Just Hux.” She nodded and didn’t push him further which he appreciated. He watched her for a moment before he asked, “So what gave me away?” Her face lit up with a smile as she pointed to the ginger hair that was peeking out of his cap. He chuckled a little at that.

“Always getting me in trouble, that.” She laughed lightly at his little joke.

“I’ve seen you around. Always with the Giant sometimes even with Mr. Snoke when he comes around to see the girls. You always tried to blend in to the background but I had my eye on you.” She said her hand taking the shape of the gun one eye closed as if she was taking aim. He could not help the grin spreading across his face. This woman was clearly a witch working some dark sorcery to make him smile more than he had in the last decade.

“And why do you have your eye on me?” He queried as he took another drag on his cigarette eyes never leaving her.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Isn’t that what they say?” She replied dryly her gaze direct yet still somewhere lurked that brightness she seemed to never let fully leave her. He swallowed and for a moment looked away. What he felt now must be close to shame but it had been so long since he felt that emotion he could not be sure.

“Am I your enemy then?” He asked.

“You tell me. What are you doing following us?” Her eyebrow was quirked as she awaited his answer. She folded her arms across her chest.

“What are you doing with a man like Poe Dameron?” He countered. She shook her head and clicked her tongue.

“I asked first, Hux. Now are you going to tell me?” He sighed and shook his head as he put out the cigarette with the heel of his boot.

“Mr. Snoke is worried about disruptive workers. Just making sure no one has plans of that nature in the factory.” She scoffed at that answer.

“Disruptive workers, huh? That’s what he calls us?” She asked.

“No he doesn’t use words that ladies, such as yourself, should hear.” He replied. She huffed a small laugh.

“I’m sure he has found something colorful to say about strikers and unions,” A small smile graced her full lips.

“He paints with all the colors of the rainbow when he talks about unions,” Hux said with a chuckle as images of his boss ranting and raving in his pristine office came to mind.  
Rose laughed heartily at that.

“I can only imagine. A union would certainly affect his profit margins.”

“Yours too, I reckon. Dues aren’t cheap.”

“I’ll pay dues if I don’t have to be cooped up in a locked room that stinks to high heaven all day getting paid barely enough to feed myself. My job is a dangerous one, Mr. Hux. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen a girl maimed by those machines. To lose my hand over barely five dollars a week in a rat infested hot house is a demoralizing thing, don’t you think?” He shoved both of his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

“Better than no job at all.” She sighed and shook her head. She made to leave and he felt his heart drop. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet. He began to walk beside her and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Where are you headed, Miss Tico?”

“To a meeting. Would you like to join me?” She looked up at him and he was yet again struck by how beautiful she was. The late afternoon light made her skin glow.

“A workers meeting?” He asked incredulously. She nodded a grin spreading across her face.

“The very thing, Mr. Hux.”

“Why would I want to go and do a thing like that? Lose my job? Listen to people gripe for hours on end about how hard it is to be a working man? I’ve heard all the whining and crying about the plight of the poor man. Mr. Snoke has worked hard for his wealth he needn’t squander it on some high and mighty workers when they could be replaced in a second.” She looked at him incredulously and let out a bitter bark of laughter.

“Replaced? Do you think so little of our labor? It takes skill to get straight seam, to do some of the intricate needlework that have become popular among young ladies. And let me tell you, Mr. Hux, no one on the island of Manhattan can fix a Singer faster than one Miss Rose Tico!” She had become flushed and animated. Her steadfast gaze had narrowed into a glare.

“I did not mean to offend,” He said quietly hands raised in an attempt to placate.

“Offend you did, Mr. Hux. But I’m used to it. Our labor is never valued as it should be.” Her voice had gone soft and sad. He again felt that emotion that could only be described as shame. They walked in strained silence for a moment neither one of them attempting to break it.

“I apologize, Miss Tico. It is never easy to have your work derided.” She looked at him scanning his face as if searching for sincerity. She must have found it for she gave a little smile.

“Apology accepted on one condition.” Her smile had grown and become sly.

“And what condition is that?” He asked knowing full well what the answer would be.

“Come to the meeting of course!” She replied with glee.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose’s POV

Rose had seen him in the waning afternoon light as he looked out on the crowd of young women. He leaned casually against the wall of the building across the street doing his darndest to blend in with the others waiting. _Damn, is he handsome_ she thought bitterly as she observed him take a drag off of his cigarette. She barely heard Kaydel and Rey’s chatter as she watched him.

She had seen him before. He had been with that large man who stalked the halls of the factory. Though everyone seemed to notice the Giant, the red headed fellow did a good job hiding in the background. Tall but slim he slipped the notice of most people but she had been watching him for awhile now.

She supposed he was one of Mr. Snoke’s thugs though he seemed smarter than those other men. He was always well dressed, clean, never drunk or carrying on, always so self possessed. He seemed like a person who was very much in control and disliked any form of chaos. He usually tamed his copper locks into some slicked back semblance of order, every hair perfectly contained by pomade. The fastidiousness of his dress and the straightness of his gait made him seem formidable. He reminded her of a straight tight seem about to burst but never quit managing to.

Today he was shockingly slovenly in appearance. Though not by most men’s standards but compared to the way he usually appeared he looked practically disheveled. The shirt under his jacket looked almost wrinkled and he had forgone a collar and tie. A soft cap covered most of his fiery hair but bits had fallen out to catch in the sunlight. She wondered if the cap were removed it too would be disheveled instead of greased into submission. The thought thrilled her.

“Does my back ache!” Exclaimed Kaydel as she went to adjust her hat. Rose watched as her face scrunched in pain.

“When doesn’t it?” Rey asked as she tried to pin her hat around her three little buns.

"Touché.” Kaydel replied with a laugh.

“Those little chairs aren’t fit for mice let alone young women sewing day in and day out.” Rey complained. She let out a small sigh of victory when she was able to get her hat pin to lay easily in her hair.

“Rose is lucky she gets to get up and move about. Lord knows I would love to be able to take a walk around for a bit.” Kaydel looked at Rose and tried to follow her line of sight.

“What are you looking at, Rose? Got a gentleman caller?” Kaydel asked a little smile playing on her lips.

“Hah! That will be the day!” She said with a laugh as she turned toward the girls. “Is Poe supposed to stop by to take us to the meeting?” She asked trying to distract from her red headed man. _Her red headed man?_ When had he become hers?

“He said he would but I don’t see him anywhere,” Rey huffed as she scanned over the sea of hats trying to see if Poe had arrived.

“We can head over without him. I remember the way, well enough.” Kaydel said as she flipped open a mirror and tried to adjust her hair to her liking. Rose watched as Kaydel bit her lip and tried to pinch some color in her cheeks.

“You look pretty enough, Kaydel. Besides he’s already smitten.” Rose said with a laugh.

“Don’t be foolish, Rose! I do not have eyes for, Poe Dameron. Anyways I couldn’t, he’s not Jewish, my father would never allow it,” the blush on her face belied her protests.

“Hang your father! You’re in America now, land of the free and all that,” Rey exclaimed. Kaydel just scoffed.

“America’s free for my father, not for me.”

“You’re blessed to have a father,” Rose said her eyes growing distant. She turned then to find the red headed man. She noticed with a bit of a start that his eyes had found her.

“She is,” Rey said with a sad smile.

“I’ll try to remember that when he scolds me for going to another meeting,” Kaydel gently patted Rey’s hand as she slipped her mirror back in her bag.

Rose and the red headed man had now entered some sort of staring contest. She noticed, not for the first time, that his eyes are a very arresting shade of blue. He was far enough away that she couldn't really make out the precise details of his face but she knew enough to know she liked the look of him. She did not know what came over her but she let a smile spread across her face and to her surprise the man did not turn away he just continued to stare at her letting the cigarette in his hand burn unnoticed.

A whistle sounded from beyond the crowd and Rose turned her head to the sound. Over the heads of the crowd of ladies she saw Poe Dameron waving his cap in the air trying to get their attention. Rey smiled broadly and waved rushing over to him as Kaydel arched her eyebrow at the display. Rose reluctantly followed suit without turning to see where the red headed man was.

She rushed forward toward Poe and Rey. Kaydel reached them first and greeted Poe with a slight inclination of her head and a small coy smile. Rose was always so shocked by Kaydel and her cool demeanor. She had never been able to hide a single emotion she felt and yet Kaydel was able to contain every change in her heart.

“Are you ready to go, my sisters in arms?” Poe asked with a smirk playing on his lips. Rose laughed at him as she linked arms with Rey and they headed toward the alleyway.

Rose glanced over her shoulders to see her red headed man had followed them. He stayed back far enough that he went undetected by her companions but she was aware he followed behind. She barely heard the conversation going on between Kaydel and Poe instead trying to work out how she would confront the red headed man.

As they made their way to the end of the alley she broke off from Rey whispering to her that she would meet them in a minute. Rey turned to her with a quizzical expression but did not question her. Rey was the most trusting woman on the planet. Never once had she ever doubted a thing Rose did or said. Perhaps now would be a good time to do so but it was not in Rey’s nature. She simply nodded and when they reached the end of the alley she split off with Kaydel and Poe who did not notice Rose’s absence.

She stood on the left side of the alley waiting for him to emerge. When he finally did he predictably looked to his right, eyes following the trio as they made their way to the meeting house.  
She watched as he looked for her, brows knitting together in confusion. She laughed a little to herself as she let out an “Excuse me sir, can I help you?” He had the wherewithal to wince slightly at being caught but he tried to school his face into a haughty neutrality.

“No, just passing through.” He replied with a lovely Irish accent. It was a valiant effort at nonchalance but alas it did not fool her. She smiled a little.

“I saw you, you know, standing by the factory. You’re hard to miss. You and that giant you pal around with.” Again he winced but she saw a smile began to play on his lips.

“What gave us away?” She studied him as he pulled another cigarette from his pocket striking a match on the brick of the wall behind him. She would never admit it out loud but she found the action tantalizingly attractive.

“Well the Giant would stick out anywhere and he’s as subtle as rock through a window,” he gave a soft chuckle around his cigarette and Rose noticed how the small smile reached all the edges of his face. It was a beautiful sight.

“Everyone noticed him but I was the only one who noticed you.” She continued watching as he seemed to falter for a bit. But he continued smoking and observing her taking a break to inquire further.

“And why is that, Miss…” he asked searching for her name.

“Tico. Rose Tico.” She replied sticking her hand out for him to shake. He took it and shook. She felt the warmth from his hand and her heart stuttered a bit at the contact. All too soon he dropped it.

“Hux.” He replied

“Just Hux?”

“Just Hux.” She nodded and didn’t push him further. Something in his tone suggested he did not want to nor feel the need to reveal his full name and she did not feel the need to pry. Yet.

"So what gave me away?” He asked as he took another drag off of his cigarette. She thought about being honest. Telling him she had seen him around and thought him very handsome but she remembered Kaydel and her cool aloofness and decided perhaps being so forward would not do her any favors. Instead she smiled at him and gestured to his ginger hair that was not covered by a cap.

“Always getting me in trouble, that.” He said with a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. She could die happy knowing she brought out that smile.

“I’ve seen you around. Always with the Giant sometimes even with Mr. Snoke when he comes around to see the girls. You always tried to blend in to the background but I had my eye on you.” She had made her hand into the shape of a gun and stared at him through the imaginary sight watching as he laughed at her. Oh Lord did she want to keep doing that.

“And why do you have your eye on me?” She faltered a bit at the question. She watched as he took another drag off his cigarette as he awaited an answer.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Isn’t that what they say?” She was shocked by her composure and the way she was able to pretend like she didn’t have butterflies dancing in her stomach.

“Am I your enemy then?” He asked looking a bit sheepish.

“You tell me. What are you doing following us?” She asked. She was sure she knew the answer but wanted to hear it from him

“What are you doing with a man like Poe Dameron?” _Oh the sly devil thought he could get away without answering._ She shook her head in disbelief.

“I asked first, Hux. Now are you going to tell me?” She waited with arms crossed as he put out his cigarette. She wondered if he would be honest.

“Mr. Snoke is worried about disruptive workers. Just making sure no one has plans of that nature in the factory.” Honest he was.

“Disruptive workers, huh? That’s what he calls us?” She asked.

“No he doesn’t use words that ladies, such as yourself, should hear.” He looked away into the street hands firmly poised in his pockets.

“I’m sure he has found something colorful to say about strikers and unions,” she replied with a huff.

“He paints with all the colors of the rainbow when he talks about unions,” Hux said with a chuckle. She couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“I can only imagine. A union would certainly affect his profit margins.”

“Yours too, I reckon. Dues aren’t cheap.” She rolled her eyes at that. If she was getting paid more she wouldn’t mind the dues.

“I’ll pay dues if I don’t have to be cooped up in a locked room that stinks to high heaven all day getting paid barely enough to feed myself. My job is a dangerous one, Mr. Hux. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen a girl maimed by those machines. To lose my hand over barely five dollars a week in a rat infested hot house is a demoralizing thing, don’t you think?” She cocked her head watching as he simply shrugged his shoulders.

“Better than no job at all.” How disappointing. Yet again a handsome man made unsuitable. Why was it that Rose always liked a man until he started talking? She sighed and decided she had had enough of Mr. Hux. But it seemed he hadn’t had enough of her.

“Where are you headed, Miss Tico?” He asked as he walked to catch up with her.

"To a meeting. Would you like to join me?” She looked up at him realizing for the first time how truly tall he was. He looked down at her brows furrowed.

“A workers meeting?” He asked incredulously. She nodded and grinned up at him.

“The very thing, Mr. Hux.”

“Why would I want to go and do a thing like that? Lose my job? Listen to people gripe for hours on end about how hard it is to be a working man? I’ve heard all the whining and crying about the plight of the poor man. Mr. Snoke has worked hard for his wealth he needn’t squander it on some high and mighty workers when they could be replaced in a second.” _Stupid man!_

“Replaced? Do you think so little of our labor? It takes skill to get straight seam, to do some of the intricate needlework that has become popular among young ladies. And let me tell you, Mr. Hux, no one on the island of Manhattan can fix a Singer faster than one Miss Rose Tico!” She felt heat rise to her face and her fists were clenched as she marched down the street.

“I did not mean to offend,” Hux replied hands up like she was a dog about to strike.

“Offend you did, Mr. Hux. But I’m used to it. Our labor is never valued as it should be.” She was so foolish. To think a man like Hux could begin to understand her plight or that of any woman was too much to ask. He was in the pocket of a man like Mr. Snoke and he was too blind to see how he too was exploited.

“I apologize, Miss Tico. It is never easy to have your work derided.” She looked up at him to see what looked like true remorse on his face. He did not admit the need for worker solidarity or the exploitation of the masses but he did seem to respect her at least. Maybe there was hope yet.

“Apology accepted on one condition.” She watched as a shadow of suspicion fell over his face.

“And what condition is that?” He asked a small smile gracing his lips.

“Come to the meeting, of course!” She replied with glee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello thanks for reading! Going to give you some historical background and plot explanations in the notes hope that is enjoyable for you. 
> 
> This story will be taking place in 1909/1910 though some of the events I will be mentioning or referencing take place a few years later. For the sake of the story they will be taking place pretty close together time wise but I will be sure to include the historical accuracy in the notes.
> 
> I will be interjecting real historical figures into this story. They won’t feature prominently within the story out of respect but I will inject them perodicially and give them the respect they deserve in the notes. 
> 
> Labor rights within the garment industry were a big subject of conversation and concern in American culture and politics of the early 20th century. The garment industry particularly in New York took off in the latter half of the 19th century and was a very profitable industry. These profits were not enjoyed by the tens of thousands of young women who worked long back breaking hours in sweatshops to make these ready to wear garments. Conditions in these sweatshops were appalling. Rats and other vermin inhabited these cheap tenement like structures. Young women were often not allowed breaks to use the restroom and the doors to the work areas were often locked to keep them penned in. 
> 
> Rose mentions her pay and I purposefully kept it at the higher end of what young women such as her self would have made. Most young women were kept at the “learning” stage of employment (think internship) despite their skill. This level of employment earned them between $3-$4 a week. Not to mention most places required you bring your own needle and thread and other supplies which was not provided for by the company. These businesses raked in about $50 million a year but paid thier workers well bellow a living wage even for the time. 
> 
> More chapters coming soon!


	3. Chapter 3

The meeting place was a coffee shop run by a Mrs. Magdalena Venzetti. The patrons and party members just called her Maz. Though small she was formidable and many had been on the wrong end of her bespectacled glare. Her rather large bearded partner, known only as Chewie, was never far from her side.

Dingy lamps hung from the ceiling and the fall evening light was quickly fading. The dim light revealed a ramshackled but cozy little shop littered with mismatched chairs and tables. Booths lined the walls which were outfitted in dark wallpaper that had seen better days. All manner of working young men and women crowded into the shop looking for one of the few seats left available.

Voices rose and fell with regularity as several factions seemed to be arguing. Though the conversations seemed lively everyone was congenial and amongst the shouts and protests laughter could be heard in equal measure. As Rose scanned the crown for familiar faces Hux heard a tapestry of languages in heated discussion.

Hux noticed, with some surprise, that it was a rather diverse crowd. It became clear this was not a local meeting of the Resistance. The crowd was not the typical gathering of cutters and pattern makers that usually populated those meetings. This crowd seemed to be made up of workers from all over the city.

This was new information to Hux, who up until that point thought that the Resistance was rather solitary in its efforts. The leadership, from what he and Ren had gathered, was rather conservative (as conservative as a union could be) but if Rose and her friends were going to a meeting such as this then collaboration was surely on the horizon.

Rose, in the meantime, had spotted a familiar face. As she pushed her way through the crowd a young black man sitting at one of the remaining empty booths waved her over. A broad friendly smile spread across his lips as he and Rose met eyes.

“Good to see you Finn!” She said as she wrapped her arms around him in a very familiar embrace. He returned it but eyed Hux over her shoulder. At that moment Hux recognized him. He had been one of the young strikebreakers he had helped train. Ended up running off after a particularly nasty strike and had obviously joined the other side. Didn’t go by “Finn” at the time, if his memory served.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Finn asked all friendly demeanor gone. Rose looked between them brows furrowed. Realization seemed to dawn on her face and a little smile played on her lips.

“Caught myself a spy!” She said proudly and laughed at Finn’s shocked expression.

“Followed the girls and I from the factory gathering information on...what did you call it Mr. Hux?” She asked turning to him clearly enjoying his discomfort. All of a sudden Hux regretted ever speaking to Miss Tico.

“Disruptive-“

“That’s right disruptive workers. That’s what you called us.” She cut him off giving him a little nudge with her hip. Something about the contact both annoyed and delighted him. Everything about this interaction began to feel surreal.

“Rose you didn’t answer the question.” Finn said with almost deadly seriousness.

“Hoping to show Mr. Hux the error of his ways, more or less. Or just show him that perhaps we are not on opposite sides of the struggle after all.” She looked up at Hux with the softest most beautiful smile and in that moment he would have pledged himself to any cause she asked him to. When did he become such a goddamn sap?

“You found yourself a young man after all!” A feminine voice called behind Hux. Rose and him turned to see the blonde woman from the factory coming over followed by Poe Dameron and the brunette. Hux looked down at Rose to see a blush spreading across her cheeks. He couldn’t help but smile a little at that.

“Rose caught herself a spy,” Finn replied with little mirth.

“A spy? You’ve got more gumption than I thought, little Miss Tico.” Poe replied with a grin.

“A spy!” The brunette exclaimed hands flying to her cheeks in mock surprise.

“Spy is a bit of an overreaction,” Hux grumbled as he became aware of all eyes on him.

“What would you call yourself, Mr. Hux?” Rose asked eyebrows raised no sign of the blush left on her face.

“An observer.” Rose laughed and Hux felt victorious.

“A little bit of an understatement don’t you think, Mr. Hux?” Rose asked eyes sparkling in the dim light of the cafe. He just smiled a small smile in return.

“Well whatever he is can he get out of the way so I may sit?” The blonde asked her hands full of mugs of what must have been coffee.

“Apologies, Kaydel,” Rose replied as she ushered Hux into the booth. He slid in and was unfortunately sandwiched between Finn and Rose. The others slid in soon after.

“Kaydel, Rey, Poe this is Mr. Hux,” Rose introduced indicating to the blonde, brunette, and then to the infamous organizer. Poe smiled and stuck out his hand to Hux who was forced to take it.

“Oh I know Mr. Hux here rather well.” Hux swallowed.

“How is that?” Rose asked looking between the two men.

“Story for another time, Miss Tico.” Poe replied not breaking eye contact with Hux. Again the feeling of shame started to edge into his consciousness. What was it about Rose Tico that caused buried feelings, some pleasant others not so much, to reemerge?

Rose curiosity was piqued but she didn’t press further. Kaydel began to pass out the coffees to the rest of the group handing her cup over to Hux.

“I’m alright Miss Kaydel no need to give up your drink,” He pushed the cup back towards her. She shrugged taking the cup back with a shrug.

“What a gentleman,” Kaydel said a small smile gracing her lips as she lifted her mug to her awaiting mouth. She cast a sly gaze over to Rose who seemed to color again though it was hard to tell in the dim light.

“You’re Irish?” Rey asked, trying to start a conversation.

“So it would seem,” Hux replied.

“We stopped in Ireland on the way over. Seemed like a pretty place.” Rey said with a warm smile.

“Couldn’t say. I was rather small when I left,” Hux replied trying to end the query that Rey had launched them into.

“We’re from all over at this table. Kaydel’s family from Ukraine, Poe came from California, Finn from North Carolina. I’m from England but I’m sure you could tell that,” She said with a light laugh, “And Rose here came all the way from...from...where was it again, Rose?”

“Vietnam,” Rose replied quietly.

“Never heard of it until I met Rose,” Rey said with a smile.

“Not many people from Vietnam around here,” Rose said. Hux noted a bit of sadness in her voice.

“Better than too many. So many Irishmen about New York it feels like I never left,” the table laughed and Rose smiled gratefully at Hux.

Poe reached into the breast pocket of his coat to pull out a pack of cigarettes offering it to the table. To his surprise he saw Kaydel withdraw one from the pack. Poe offered the pack to Hux, brow raised. Hux took one with a _thank you_. Poe struck a match and lit his and Kaydel’s while Hux lit his own.

As he took a drag Hux looked around the coffeehouse and took in all the people inside searching for familiar faces. The crowd as he had surmised was not full of garment workers but was full of laborers. If Poe Dameron was among these laborers he could only conclude that this was most likely a Party meeting.

“What’s the nature of this meeting? Doesn’t seem like a ILGWU meeting to me.” Hux flicking the ash of his cigarette in dish at the center of the table tryin this best to seem nonchalant.

“Curious, aren’t we?” Poe asked his eyebrow raised. Rose chuckled as she took a sip of her coffee.

“That’s because it’s not a ILGWU meeting, Mr. Hux. Poe and Finn don’t even work in the garment industry. This is more of a meeting of...like minded people.” Rose said with a small air of manufactured mystery. So he had reached the correct conclusion.

“And what are these people in like minds about?” Hux asked.

“Rose, don’t you think we should be a little more careful around Mr. Spy over here?” Finn asked.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” Hux said matter-of-factly. Rose giggled and nodded in agreement.

“We know who he is. If this information gets out we are fully aware of who is letting it slip. Mr. Hux here may be a fool for First Order but he has enough sense of self preservation to keep his trap shut,” Poe replied. Hux had a feeling it was as much a threat as it was an explanation. It seemed to put Finn at ease a bit.

“Yes, well, I won’t reveal too much more to him that he won’t find out when the meeting starts.” Rose said in a way of defense. She squirmed in her seat inadvertently brushing her thigh against Hux’s. Even through his trousers and hers he could feel the heat of it. He could feel his ears turning pink. Thank god for the dim light.

Before Hux could embarrass himself further the crowd started to go quiet as an older gentleman made his way to a turned over crate that seemed to be serving as a makeshift platform. He moved with slow purpose his clothes worn but obviously well made. He looked unkempt but somehow he still held an air of authority that moved all eyes toward him and caused the voices in the cafe to fall to a low murmur and then eventually into silence. As he stood up on the crate all eyes turned to him like parishoners at a Sunday service looking upon the altar.

“Welcome all, I am pleased to see so many of you here this evening. This cause is one that can only benefit from more members, from diverse members, comrades from all walks of life and places of origin. Though we may be different, the ties that bind us are strong. Mutual struggle brings us together. The desperation of those in the dark to seek the light. Around us we feel our fellow man suffering and struggling for freedom. We felt the same yearning. This yearning brought us across the universe to this place, to this beacon of freedom. We all came to this country hoping for better, for more, for something different. Here we believed the mechanisms of change moved swifter, that the ladder to climb to success was available to all. But alas it is not.

When we came to this country we thought we left oppression behind us. Perhaps oppression looked like a czar, a king, a lord, or centuries of fear and poverty and when we all sailed away from it we thought this new world would never crush us under the heel of oppression again. And yet here we are all under a different heel, the heel of the capitalist, of the barons of industry that profit off our backs but seem to have little coin to spare to us. Here it is the business man that leeches off society.” The crowd began to boo and hiss and roil as the man on the crate grew more animated.

“The darkness of capitalism, of the never ending search for profit above all else, as snuffed out humanity. The light of the world is blown out each day by men who care more for their purse than the men and women that slave to fill it. Oh how we suffer for their comfort!” Hux watched as the crowd grew more animated and enraptured by the old man’s speech.

Eyes burned with passion. Faces turned toward him like flowers toward the sun. Hux had to admit it was stirring. He spoke with passion and was rather eloquent but it mattered little to Hux in the end.  
Hux knew how the poor suffered. He’d been a working man his entire life. He had watched people struggling to feed their families. How they lived on top of each other in dirty tenement buildings. He had watched how his mother had tried to soothe her cracked hands from her hours working as a laundress. He watched as every coin she made went from her hand to his father’s pocket and eventually the pub. He watched as she grew thinner and thinner. He watched as she struggled to feed him. And then he had to work and he couldn’t watch her anymore.

He had been so small then. Thin like her, well not quite as thin. Every morsel of food went to him. Every bit of coin she could hide went to food in his belly and clothes on his back. But eventually he earned his keep. He worked in factories where his small hands made it easy for him to fix broken parts. He was quick and clever and he made a good bit of money for a boy so young. But not enough. As he toiled away in the factories his mother had slipped away from him. Such was life. Such was the state of being if you were the rabble, the tired, the poor, the huddled masses.

If there was a state of existence beyond this it was not something given but something earned. He had earned his place at the factories and at home. When he brought more and more coins to his father he was rewarded with blessed indifference. Instead of beatings from his father he received insults, a marked improvement from drunken fists.

He had proven himself an asset at the factory and fiercely loyal. He had made himself useful to those in positions of power. He had done that through sheer determination, sheer force of will. He did not believe he was owed anything he knew everything had to be earned. He knew a man was only valuable if he proved to be useful.

The old man’s speech was just full of cheap sentiment. One needed to be clever, to be determined, to above all else know their place. Foolish sentiment made people weak, unable to rise above their station. Some would never succeed, of course, but that was no fault of the system it was a personal failure. An inability to enact the selfish coldness needed for a world as cold and competitive as this one. Rose and her ilk were foolish to waste their time on such nonsense. They should know their place or work to rise beyond it.

****

Rose sat enraptured as Mr. Skywalker spoke. She had heard all of these things before for the most part but never with such eloquence. In the Resistance meetings many talked about what they needed in terms of better working conditions and the like but this was something far beyond that. This was total social restructuring. This was an upheaval of the order of things and it was intoxicating.

Her whole life had been under someone’s thumb whether it was at the factory or on the streets. She was trapped by circumstance, by the will of men.

Her father had come to this country to study and took his wife and his young daughters with him. Nothing about this world had been familiar to the Tico family. Though Rose was an infant when she came over her sister, Paige, had told her stories of the open beauty of their home. How green and lush it was, how the air smelled fresh and clean, how some mornings the only sound was that of birds and crickets. It was a world that was as foreign to Rose as this one was to her parents. And yet she felt as if she did not belong in New York either. It was as if she was in a limbo of sorts adrift in an uncertain sea.

She had been adrift for so long she thought perhaps she would not know what land would feel like under her feet but when Mr. Skywalker spoke she could imagine she was close to finding out. In meetings like this, she felt a part of something. When Mr. Skywalker would sit Rey and Rose around his shaky little table in his modest and dusty apartment and talk to them of their power she felt the closest to solid ground, to belonging. A cause was something that gave her purpose and made her feel that perhaps she was not just at the mercy of others.

“We are stronger together than apart. When we organize we are together as one voice against injustice. It is only through collective struggle that we are able to break the chains we have been given. There are no great men but rather great people!” With those words Mr. Skywalker stepped off his makeshift podium and the crowd erupted in cheers. Rose leapt to her feet and climbed atop the table cheering loudly. She felt Kaydel and Rey beside her as they too cheered. It felt like flying.

As the crowd died down Poe helped Kaydel and Rey down as Hux offered his hand to Rose. She smiled down at him and took it as she made her way back to the booth. If the excitement of the moment hadn’t made her heart race already she might have felt a stir at the contact. She did notice he seemed to hold it a bit longer than necessary.

“What did you think, Mr. Hux?” She asked. The others at the table had entered into a conversation about Mr. Skywalker leaving Rose and Hux to their own.

“It was a very...stirring speech,” He replied diplomatically as he took a drag of his dwindling cigarette. Rose was momentarily mesmerized by the way the smoke billowed passed his lips.

“Indeed. Do you feel stirred by anything in particular?” She asked trying to draw her eyes away from his mouth. Belatedly she realized her statement held an unintentional double entendre, though with her mind so occupied by visions of his mouth she couldn’t help wonder if it was really a mistake. She looked at Hux who seemed to have also noticed her faux pas as his ears and cheeks began to turn a furious shade of red.

“No, nothing in particular.” He replied, eyes darting around the room as if trying to avoid hers. He busied himself by putting out his cigarette in the ashtray in the middle of the table.  
She watched his long fingers methodically crush the burning end of the cigarette into submission and finally to its demise trying not to imagine what they would feel like on her skin. _What had come over her?_  
He cleared his throat and looked at her eyes searching her face. She prayed to whoever was listening that he did not see her wicked thoughts.

“Miss Tico, this is where I must leave you,” he said as he stuck out his hand as if to shake hers. She took it but did not shake it, she simply let it rest in his.

“May I at least walk you out?” She asked. The blush that had been making an appearance on his face throughout the night seemed to roar back to life. He simply nodded.  
Finn got up from the table to let them slide out and they made their way to the door of the cafe and out into the street.

It had grown dark and the street lights were the only thing that kept them from complete darkness. The warm glow of them made his copper hair take on almost mythic shades. He looked like some baroque painting with his lovely face cast in dramatic shadow and light. What would he do if she just tilted her head so, leaned forward, and let him kiss her?The thought set her aflame and she dismissed it as too forward and far too foolish. He was a goddamn goon, a strikebreaker! And yet she could not shake the hope that perhaps he would change. That perhaps if he spent more time with her he would see the error of his ways.  
She stuck out her hand like he had in the cafe and he took it not shaking it just holding it in the light of the street lamp.

“Will I see you again?” She asked.

“I thought you had your eye on me?” He replied with a smile.

“Only when you deign to appear.” She countered.

“You’ll see me again.” He replied with such certainty that Rose believed it. And to her utter shock he brought her hand up to his face. But instead of kissing the back of her hand as was customary, _as was proper_ , he kissed the inside of her wrist right where her pulse beat so rapidly she was sure he could feel it. His lips were warm and soft on her skin and she could feel a shiver run down her spine. Involuntarily her hand curled around his jaw and she let out a small gasp.

To his credit he seemed as shocked by his actions as she did. He dropped her hand and looked up at her blue eyes hidden in shadow.

“Goodnight, Rose,” he said his voice low and his accent making her name sound like music. _Her name!_ he had called her Rose. Oh god, she was in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> History Time!
> 
> Some of the characters in this fic will be Jewish. The garment district in New York during this time was dominated by Jewish immigrants and Italian immigrants. Half of all factory workers were Jewish and a third were Italian. Almost all of the unionized workers and leaders of the strike were Jewish women. All of the leaders of the specific strikes I will be referencing were Jewish and often delivered their addresses in Yiddish. The movements tenants were also tied to Jewish tradition. 
> 
> The strikes that this fic is based around play a large part in the history of Jewish-Americans and it is important to include their story in this one. The history of labor struggle particularly in New York City is also the story of Jewish involvement in American public life and these two cannot be separated. 
> 
> I myself am not Jewish but my family history is tied into the garment industry of this period as both my great grandmothers were seamstresses in the garment insudtry during this period (one of whom was part of several workers demonstrations). My grandfather would go on to own several factories in New York in 40s, 50s, and 60s. As Italian immigrants their struggle is also tied with the labor struggle of the garment industry. 
> 
> This is personally a very important period of history to me as a decendant of these women as well as a person who respects all forms of labor struggle. I also am personally invested in respecting the heritage and struggles of minority groups both past and present. The story of the strikes of 1909 is an inherintaly Jewish story and I believe that not including that would be a disservice the story and the history it is based on. 
> 
> I hope I do not offend with any of these characterizations but I am more than willing for feedback and correction when it comes to any of these characters. This is also not a commentary on persieved “Jewishness” of any character or actor and should not be taken as thus. The Jewish diaspora is wide spread and diverse and cannot be defined by any specific feature. 
> 
> Please enjoy and comment!


	4. Chapter 4

_God dammit! Christ on the fucking cross!_ What the hell was he thinking? He had never done anything so foolish in all his life. What in God’s name possessed him to kiss her wrist? Furthermore what had possessed him to flirt (flirt!) with her in that cafe?

He could hear her voice distantly in the back of his mind. _Do you feel stirred by anything in particular?_ She had asked him. Christ, was he stirred. Everything she did _stirred_ him beyond reason. In that particular moment it was the way she leaned against the table, her head resting in her hand and a soft curious smile playing on her very beautiful lips. He wanted to kiss those lips so desperately it had driven him to distraction. It was all he thought about as she walked him out of the cafe and as he made to say goodbye. It was those imaginings, those stirrings, that had made him lean forward and kiss the skin at her wrist. The feel of its warmth against his lips was the closest thing to heaven he could recall. That and the way she had gasped and curled her hand along his jaw. His utter foolishness was worth the feel of her fingers against him and the sound of her catching breath.

When would he hear music like that again? Certainly not in this lifetime. He would never be lucky enough to be that close to her again. But the memory of her smiles made him hope, just a little.

Hux walked quickly through the now dark streets, only the light of the gas lamps leading him back to First Order Shirtwaists. He entered the unlocked side door and bound up the stairs two at a time.

He had spent a longer time at the cafe than anticipated. Nothing about the events of tonight had gone as anticipated but he could not dwell on that any longer, he had business to attend to.

He walked past the desks in the office, past the desk of Mr. Mitaka, Mr. Snoke’s secretary. He looked at the young man bent over the ledgers, his eyes scanning for mistakes. He shot a furtive glance at Hux and shifted nervously in his chair. No mistaking Mr. Mitaka was clever but he had the spine of a jellyfish. Hux wondered what he could have been if he went to the schools Mr. Mitaka had no doubt attended. Hux was a learned man but only by sheer force of will. He consumed every book that passed through his eager hands. He studied every possible subject he could in desperate hope of self improvement. He was surely as intelligent as Mr. Mitaka but a piece of paper and hundreds of dollars stood in between them.

Hux sauntered through Mr. Snoke’s office door. The large office was lavish. It always smelled faintly of cigar smoke, expensive cigar smoke, only the best for a man like Mr. Snoke. Every surface was according to the best tastes money could buy. Carved mahogany desk, velvet upholstered armchairs for guests and a veritable throne for Mr. Snoke himself. A small bar cart sat in the corner with a decanter of brandy perched on top. If someone were to draw a cartoon of the kind of capitalists that Mr. Skywalker had spoken about they would surely include a room such as this.

The thought made Hux color for reasons he did not wish to examine. He had never really thought about Snoke’s office much in the past. The place just was and he always believed that it suited a man like Mr. Snoke’s. He had worked for it after all. But to see its lavishness and think of the way the factory below smelled of sweat, rust, and rat piss made a feeling close to anger spike in his chest. To think of a woman like Rose working down there while he sat up here all of a sudden felt a bit unjust. _Oh how we suffer for their comfort!_ Mr. Skywalker’s words drifted forth unbidden in his mind. He shook his head to clear it, to pretend he never entertained such traitorous thoughts.

“Hux, my boy. How was your little information gathering mission?” Mr. Snoke said from his throne. The wrinkled old man gave him an oily smile from his perch, hand extended and one of his fat cigars poised between two fingers made slightly yellow by the tobacco. The smell of the sweet tobacco made Hux’s stomach begin to churn.

“It went well, sir,” He replied stiffly. Behind him Hux heard big lumbering footsteps. _Ren_ , he thought bitterly as the footsteps grew closer. He watched as Mr. Snoke’s smile grew wider as he caught sight of Ren over Hux’s shoulder.  
“Ren! Timing impeccable as always. Hux here was about to tell me about our little disruptors.” Hux turned to see Ren enter the office. He was so goddamn big he took up half of the office and made Hux feel crowded and small by comparison. Ren looked at Hux and simply nodded a greeting.

“Do go on, Hux.” Snoke said as he brought his cigar to his lips, leaning back in his ornate chair waiting to be regaled with tales of grimy little unionists.

Hux hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t sure what to say. He had found out some notable information. The nature of the meeting tonight could give them some insight on the impending strike but he was reluctant to implicate Rose. He had done this before. He knew what it meant for Rose if she was discovered and he had no desire to cause her any trouble. But perhaps if he stopped her before it all started no harm would be done. She seemed clever, if Snoke sacked her (as was his right), she would surely land on her feet. Maybe he could help her, if she let him.

“As Ren said, Dameron met some of the ladies after work. I followed them to that cafe run by Mrs. Vanzetti and it seemed like they were not having a chapter meeting but a larger gathering,” Hux stated trying his best to stay detached and professional. At his side Ren cleared his throat. Hux turned sharply toward him and glared at the hulking beast. Ren merely stared forward at Mr. Snoke.

“Hux, here, is leaving out that he infiltrated the little gang himself.” Ren stated matter-of-factly. _Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!_ Ren had followed him. Didn’t think he could do it himself, did he?

To his relief Mr. Snoke seemed intrigued by the omission and leaned forward on his desk waiting for Hux to elaborate.  
“Ren is correct, I was invited to the meeting.”

“How did you swing something like that? Dameron surely didn’t invite you!” He said with a laugh and Hux could hear Ren chuckling beside him.

“He did not, sir. I, uh, met a friend there.” Mr. Snoke raised a bushy white brow at the omission.

“Seems Hux has gotten himself a little girlfriend, Mr. Snoke.” Ren stated a shit eating smile gracing his face. Hux whirled around and felt his blood rush to his face. The glare he sent Ren could have melted ice. Snoke chuckled as he leaned back in his chair.

“You sweet on one of my girls, Hux?” Snoke asked.

“No, sir.” Hux replied quickly.

“No need to be so coy, my boy. There are a few beauties down there. wouldn’t be the first time one of my boys sampled some wares.” Something about Snoke’s tone made Hux uneasy. “Sampling” did not imply gentlemanly courtship.

“I am in no need of samples, sir. Though I was able to glean some information from one of the ladies, as Ren suggested.” Snoke leaned forward and nodded thoughtfully.

“I like this, Hux. I like how you think. More flies with honey, and all that. It’s a good strategy warming up to the girls and getting more information from them. Women are easy to influence when their heads are turned. What’s her name?” Hux felt his heart speed up. He didn’t want to tell him but he felt trapped.

“Tico, sir. Rose Tico.” He watched Mr. Snoke’s brow furrow trying to put a face to the name. When recognition finally dawned an oily smile spread across his face.

“Didn’t take you for the exotic type but I can see the appeal,” Hux wasn’t sure what he meant but he had a feeling he didn’t like the implication. Was Mr. Snoke always so slimy? He hadn’t paid much mind to the way he talked about his employees before and upon reflection he could recall a few ungentlemanly remarks but it had mattered little to him at the time. He supposed his silence was tacit approval of his boss’s lascivious comments though Hux himself was not prone to such talk. But he was the kind of man who seldom paid attention to problems that did not affect him directly. What did it matter if he had no skin in the game? The concept of collective struggle eluded him. A man struggled alone. The weight of his problems rested only on his shoulders, no one else’s. _Why must we struggle alone?_ The question Mr. Skywalker had asked in his speech floated forth from the recess of Hux’s memory. It hung about him like a cloud and despite his best efforts he could not dispel it.

Mr. Snoke laughed at his own little joke but Hux felt Ren’s eyes burning through him. The man, though oafish in manner, did have an annoyingly shrewd eye. He was very observant and as his eyes followed Hux with a piercing knowledge that made him shiver. Never before had he felt like the framed insects pinned to a board that sat on Mr. Snoke’s office wall. Could he see they way Hux’s mind drifted toward discontent? Could he feel the disquiet that had settled in his bones?

“Be careful, Hux, don’t want your head turned by some little rebel.” Mr. Snoke said breaking the tension that had slipped into the room, unannounced. Hux gave a forced chuckle and nodded.

“But it wouldn’t hurt for you to pretend it was. Weasel your way into her inner circle and extract as much information as you can. Maybe we can stop this thing before it starts.” Mr. Snoke punctuated his speech by putting his cigar out in his marble ashtray.

“Go forth and conquer, gentlemen,” he said in way of a dismissal and shooed the pair out of his office.  
Hux tried to move quickly to avoid any conversation with Ren but that behemoth was too quick.

“Who would have ever thought that the ice cold Armitage Hux would find himself in the snare of a little mechanic?” Ren pronounced dryly as they descended the stairwell.

“I am in no one’s snare.”

“Aren’t you?” Ren replied with a quirk of the brow as he shoved his hands in his pocket searching for a cigarette. As they stepped out into the cool night air Ren extracted a pack and pulled out two offering one to Hux. Hux stared at him for a moment. Never had Ren been so genial toward him in all the years they had worked together. Their relationship could be kindly described as competitive but it often leaned more adversarial. With this little display of uncharacteristic generosity their relationship took a swing toward situational camaraderie. It made Hux deeply suspicious.

Gingerly he took the offered cigarette as if picking a flower out of the mouth of a lion. Ren chuckled at Hux’s hesisitance, a sound that was both rare and disquieting.

“What do you want, Ren?” He asked as he took a drag off of his cigarette.

“Can’t a man just offer a friend a cigarette without being accused of subterfuge?” He asked nonchalantly.

“We’re friends now, are we? Wasn’t sure you knew the meaning of the word.” Ren quirked his eyebrow at Hux’s joke and chuckled. It was a nicer sound than the one he expelled in Mr. Snoke’s office.

“I know the meaning about as well as you do.” It was Hux’s turn to laugh, just a short bark but more than he had ever laughed in Ren’s presence before.

“Out with it. What’s the meaning of all this friendliness?” Hux watched Ren out of the corner of his eye. He shoved a hand through his unkempt hair quietly searching for an answer. The wild mane he sported became wilder with his large hand tugging at the strands.

“Did Skywalker speak tonight?” Ren finally asked. He didn’t look at Hux but instead busied himself by taking a drag off of his own cigarette and watching the smoke twirl and disappear in the night air.

“He did.” Hux replied his brow furrowed in confusion. He studied Ren for a moment but the giant gave nothing away just looked pointedly forward as he continued smoking his cigarette. For a moment neither one of them said anything. Finally Ren broke the silence.

“Did he look well?” _Did he look well?_ What the hell kind of question was that? Why in God’s name was Ren asking such a personal question about some old socialist agitator?

“He looked old but as far as I could tell he was fine. What does it matter to you?” Again Ren avoided eye contact as he looked out onto the emptying street.

“It doesn’t, just curious is all. I’ve been hearing about him for years and was just, ya know, curious.” His tone was attempting to be casual but Hux detected something more.

“As you said.” Hux replied carefully as he scanned Ren for clues. He revealed nothing in his posture but his curiosity revealed more.

“Was his sister there?” _Sister?_ Why the hell did Ren know that this Skywalker fellow had a sister.

“How would I know? Until this very moment I was not aware he had a sister.” Ren just shrugged.

“That’s because you’re not very good at your job,” Hux scoffed at that. His indigence at the implication making him momentarily forget his suspicions.

“That is patently false, Ren, and you know it. Just because I don’t skulk around every corner like an overly large rat does not mean I am bad at my job.” Ren guffawed at that.

“‘Overly large rat.’ That’s a new one, even for you Hux.” Ren shook his head and chuckled, taking one last drag off his cigarette before flicking it into the street.

“It was an apt description.”

“So you say.” They turned down Hux’s street and neared his boarding house. They stopped in the street, the air filled with questions unanswered.

“Did you know your little lady friend lives with Skywalker?” Hux blanched at this admission. Why would she live with him? What did he mean to her?

“Don’t look so panicked Hux, she lives there with that Rey girl. He took them in, helped raise them practically. They live over his little bookshop on the Lower East Side.” Ren chuckled again as he shoved his hands in his pocket. He looked around taking in the street. Hux distantly wondered if he had ever been on this street before. Up until now Ren probably didn’t know where he lived.

“How the hell do you know all of this?”

“Like I said I’m good at my job.”

“Christ on the cross, Ren. You’re not that good.” The smirk that Ren had been sporting disappeared and he once again avoided Hux’s eyes. He looked as if he was contemplating something and was not yet sure if it’s outcome. Finally he spoke.

“I just know. Don’t ask me how I know and I won’t tell anybody about the way you looked at Miss Tico.” Hux gulped and looked heavenward before he nodded in agreement.

“If it’s any consultation, Hux. She seemed as enamored with you as you did with her.” Ren said as he turned to walk away.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t say anything.” Hux called as he felt heat rise to his face.

“I think our terms of agreement left me open to torment you.”

“I must get better at negotiation.” Hux grumbled as he turned to unlock the door to his boarding house. He heard Ren chuckle as he sauntered down the street to God knows where.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! This chapter was very hard for me to complete. I want to give a warning for some period appropriate racism. It’s mild but I thought it was an important addition to the story. If this is something that bothers you or if you have some constructive criticism about it please, please, please comment below. 
> 
> TW: period appropriate racism, racial slurs

Rose could not recall the last time she looked forward to the work day. Ever since she had met Mr. Hux, ever since he had placed his lips upon her pulse, she greeted each day with vigor she had not felt in some time.

Nothing had changed, really, the factory floor still stank, the cutters and guards still leered at the seamstresses as they bowed their heads in anger and shame, their fingers still bled, their backs still ached, and when the week concluded they would get little in way of recompense for their toils. But Rose had hope, it blossomed within her uncontrollably. She could feel it spread through her chest and dance outward.

Every morning she hummed as she fixed her hair with more care than she had in many months. Rey laughed at her as she twisted her hair into a neat roll pinning it with determination she usually only reserved for faulty machines. She even contemplated dawning a skirt again but the thought of seeing Kaydel’s knowing smirk was enough to stop her.

For a week she entered the factory a hopeful smile gracing her face and each day it would dim as the hours passed and he did not appear. The ache in her back reminded her that he was not the only thing she needed hope for and she would let that smile grace her face again with thoughts of impending change. And each morning her twin hope would renew and for a week those hopes danced together making her days seem less difficult to bear.

One morning, after her week of waxing and waning hope, she awoke with a start, gasping so loudly she roused Rey from her bed.

“Everything alright, Rose?” Rey asked as she sat up rubbing her sleepy eyes. Rose simply nodded and shook herself trying to physically repel the dream that had woken her up. It must have worked for all memory of it eluded her, only the feeling of unease remained.

It had been years since she had nightmares like that. Since she had moved in with Rey and Mr. Skywalker her night terrors had ebbed as her all consuming fears of abandonment left her. The little slapdash family that she had created out of the ashes of her own, had been her saving grace.

It felt like a premonition, this nightmare. Like a lighthouse in a fog leading her, not to safety, but a rocky cliff. She felt goosebumps rise on her arms and she pulled her quilt up over her shoulders. She looked out the window and saw it was still dark. Rey had fallen back to sleep and snored lightly from her bed and the clock on their shared dresser read 3:35.

Rose sighed and slowly extracted herself from her bed. She knew sleep would elude her and she decided to make her way to the kitchen. As she ambled through the quiet apartment she saw the light in Mr. Skywalker’s study shone through the crack of the closed door. She was not surprised, Mr. Skywalker was known to keep strange hours.

She knocked on the door and heard a gruff “Come in” from the other side. She entered the messy study, dancing around piles of books and forgotten mugs of tea. She had to remember to come and tidy in here more often.

Mr. Skywalker sat with a book in hand and a cup of tea rested before him on the messy old desk. Stacks of papers dotted the surface of the old oak desk and hidden beneath them were more books and trinkets of unknown origin or purpose. Despite its disorder it was a charming sight.

“What are you doing up, Rose?” He stood up and ushered her to an old chair that sat beside the little window on the far wall. He gathered the books that rested on its seat and placed them gingerly on a stack beside it. She smiled gratefully at him and sat down.

“Couldn’t sleep.” She replied as she lowered herself into the ancient chair. It groaned as it took on her weight but remained sturdy. Mr. Skywalker ambled over to his desk and sat back down. He gently marked his page in his book and set it aside turning his attention to Rose.

“Bad dream?” He asked. She shrugged in response.

“I think so. Can’t remember it now.” She looked out the window onto the street. Even at this hour a few young men wandered about, their figures appearing and disappearing in the light of the gas lamps.

“Been awhile. Anything bothering you of late?” He asked as he rested his head on his hand, his elbow resting on the only bare space on his desk. He looked over his spectacles at her with a calm but expectant expression.

“Besides my back and aching fingers?” She asked with a smile. He chuckled, indulging in her very poor joke but he still waited for a real answer letting the encroaching silence weasel it out of her.

“I feel like something momentous is waiting for me. I do not know what it is but I have been feeling like a shadow stalks me. Does that make sense?” She had no real words to describe this disturbance. Even as she danced with these twin feelings of hope, a foreboding shadow seemed to follow her too. A darkness descended on her as much as the light. Her emotions felt beyond the rational, beyond human expression. To her relief Mr. Skywalker nodded knowingly.

“I know the feeling.” He replied with a tired smile. He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach.

“Change is natural, Rose. Nothing stays the same, nothing exists as it was for long. Even mountains shift after millennia. It is small and cannot be perceived by human eyes but it happens.  
Sometimes for good, sometimes for bad, and sometimes it just is what it will be. Your life will change and if the wheel of change has begun to turn you can do nothing about it,” Mr. Skywalker often spoke in riddles. Rose and Rey would roll their eyes at him when he would pontificate to them about that nature of the world. They would laugh at the way his words would twist in and out of coherence. They would smile at the way he would grumble when they answered his musings with barely concealed amusement. She wasn’t laughing at his twisting words now.

“This change does not feel good. I knew there would be change, of course. We have been preparing to strike for some time now and I knew it would not be easy but now it feels like something awaits us that is more frightening than losing our jobs.” She folded her hands in her lap trying to hide how they shook.

“What if we fail and what if things are worse than when we started?” She looked at him desperately, her doubts written large in her expressive face. He smiled sweetly at her.

“The Talmud tells us ‘you are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.’ Good works, justice, mercy they may not be achieved in our lifetime but we must strive to make it so. We must work to make the wheels turn, Rose. You and the girls will start something great if you continue this work. You mustn’t worry about the cost. The reward is too great.”

Rose looked out the window again. In the dim lamp light she could make out the sign that hung above the shop. She could see the words painted on it in Yiddish and English. She could make out the little books she had painted on as decoration.

“I thought you weren’t a religious man,” she replied, turning to face him again with a smile on her lips. He grumbled and waved his hand dismissively.

“I may not believe it, but some words are too good to forsake,” he replied. They sat in silence for a while as Rose contemplated his words. She remembered the quote from the Talmud in full. _Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to finish the work but neither are you free to abandon it._ Even in her mind she heard Rey’s smooth voice translating the words as she sat in the dusty corner of the bookshop below.

Mr. Skywalker was right, words like that were too good to leave behind. They felt like a fire burning under her feet and in her heart. That hope that had been blossoming there was now supplemented by the language she did not know she needed.

She stood and walked over to Mr. Skywalker sitting in his chair. She leaned forward and embraced him. He awkwardly patted her back not used to this kind of affection but she knew he didn’t mind.  
“Go back to bed, Rose. You need your rest,” he instructed, his voice full of fatherly affection.

*****

Rose shuffled into work with the rest of the girls, her smile dimmed slightly by her sleepiness. After her chat with Mr. Skywalker she was still unable to sleep and laid awake staring at the ceiling until it was time to rise for work.

As she made her way to her work station Kaydel walked up to her a furrow in her brow.

“Mitaka says Snoke wants to see you.” She inclined her head toward the door that led to the stairwell. There stood a nervous Mr. Mitaka. He tugged at his suit jacket trying desperately to release a wrinkle near the hem but was unable. He looked up and saw Rose and awkwardly waved her over.

As Rose made her way toward him she felt all the eyes of the other seamstresses follow her. They all wore a look of pity as if they knew her fate before she did.

Mr. Mitaka smiled as she approached, though it did not reach his eyes.

“Good morning, Miss Tico. Mr. Snoke needs your assistance,” he was always so formal. Rose and the other girls liked Mr. Mitaka. He was a nice man, quiet, nervous, but respectful. He always spoke to the girls with an earnest politeness that put them at ease. In a world where men rarely gave women the respect they deserved it was nice to know men like Mr. Mitaka were about.

But despite Mr. Mitaka’s calming presence, Rose was anything but. She was not sure what a man like Mr. Snoke would want with her and she had little confidence it was anything good.  
Had Hux told him about the meeting? Surely not. If that was the case Kaydel and Rey would be here too. Unless he wanted to reprimand them one at a time. But why bring them in when he could just fire them?

She followed Mr. Mitaka up the stairs and tried her hardest to stop her hands from shaking. She tried in vain to smooth out the wrinkles in her overalls. She patted her hair making sure all her pins were in place and silently cursed herself for not fixing it with as much care as she had last week.

Mr. Mitaka led her through the office. Rose felt like a criminal being led to the gallows. He turned to her with a reassuring smile before he opened the door to Mr. Snoke’s office. She returned it but with great effort.

He opened the door and Rose felt her heart squeeze as her eyes fell on none other than Hux sitting in the chair facing Mr. Snoke’s desk. To her great disappointment they were not alone.

Mr. Snoke sat in his grand chair, cigar poised between his lips. At the sight of her his face broke out into a disturbing facsimile of a smile. The delight she had felt a moment before at the sight of Mr. Hux was replaced by a primal fear.

“Miss Tico, what a pleasure,” Mr. Snoke stood beckoning Rose over. She moved slowly toward him.

“Have you met my associate, Mr. Hux?” He gestured to Hux who turned to her then his face a mask of civility. She wanted to run to him, hide behind him perhaps, but she felt like a rabbit in a den of foxes.

“I haven’t had the pleasure,” Hux replied for her. He extended his hand to shake hers and she took it. It was a small gift to feel the warmth of his hand if only for a moment. The squeeze he gave it was quick but reassuring.

“Miss Tico I have a little project for you, if you don’t mind,” Snoke said as he sat back in his chair. Rose simply nodded and waited for his instruction.

“You see this lamp here,” he asked, gesturing to the electric lamp that sat on his desk. It was a beautiful thing, made of stained glass.

“It’s a real Tiffany, do you like it?” Snoke asked. Rose nodded.

“It’s very beautiful,” she replied, her voice small to her own ears.

“You’ve got good taste, Tico” he said with an oily smile. She tried to smile in return but she was sure it was a sad flat little thing.

“Well as beautiful as it is, it stopped working. Won’t turn on. Mitaka checked the bulb and there was nothing wrong with it. Since you’re such a handy girl on the floor I figured you might be able to fix this,” he leaned back in his chair and took a drag off of his cigar waiting for her reply.

“Of course, sir, I’ll take it back to my work station and have a look at it,” Rose replied. Mr. Snoke chuckled and shook his head.

“No, no, Miss Tico I’ll have you fix it here. It’s too valuable to have down on the floor.” Rose nodded. Of course Mr. Snoke was afraid she would steal.

“Well, I’ll go get my tools then,” she said, but Snoke stopped her.

“Mitaka will get you your things.” He called out to his secretary and she watched with dimming hope as Mitaka scuttled away.

She looked to Hux who was pointedly avoiding eye contact. She could see a muscle in his jaw twitch as he clenched his teeth. He seems as uneasy as she did.

“Hux pull up a chair for Miss Tico.” Snoke demanded and Hux jumped up pulling his chair over to the side of the desk closest to a lamp.

“Thank you,” she said and she turned to him, giving him a real smile. He nodded in reply, his eyes trained on her. He didn’t look away until Snoke cleared his throat and the spell was broken.

“You know Miss Tico, I’m surprised by your cleverness,” Snoke said his hands steepled under his chin in a pose of contemplation.

“Oh?” She said in reply. The way his eyes had narrowed made Rose feel uneasy.

“Yes. I find that celestials usually aren’t very clever. Hard workers perhaps but no real intelligence behind it. You, on the other hand, are quite accomplished.” Rose felt heat rise in her. She could not tell if it was rage or shame.

“But I have a tendency to collect oddities. Hux over here is an Irishmen who doesn’t drink. Clever too, not a trait that many from his corner of the world share. Mitaka, I believe is Italian, but is as timid and sweet as a kitten. He displays none of that hotheadedness that comes with the race.” Rose glanced in Hux’s direction and saw how his face had become red, his eyes trained on the carpet on the floor.

“Well as you can see, Mr. Snoke, we cannot be so easily defined. No person fits tightly into any category. Surely your employees are an example of that?” She hoped her voice sounded sweet and betrayed none of the rage that bubbled up inside her.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Miss Tico. You are an exception to the rule.” He smiled at her. A man like Snoke probably thought he was giving her a great compliment.

“Perhaps you are right, Mr. Snoke, but I have found that it's best to break rules when one can.” To her relief Mr. Snoke let out a laugh at her impertinence.

At that moment Mitaka entered with her bag of tools. She thanked him and headed over to the lamp. She unscrewed the shade from the base and began to take it apart.

“Where did you learn such a skill, Miss Tico?” Hux asked to her great surprise. He was standing close, his eyes trained on her. She glanced up at him and smiled a little returning her gaze back to her work.

“Ever since I was small I liked to take things apart. My mother’s sewing machine, the music box my father bought me when I was small, my landlord’s register, all manner of machinery. I liked to see what was inside, to see the little mechanisms move. And nothing is more satisfying than seeing a broken thing fixed.”

She heard Hux humm in amusement. He had come so close she could feel the heat of his body on her right side. She glanced up to see him peering at the dissected lamp with barley restrained curiosity.

“Are you interested in machinery, Mr. Hux?” She asked. He looked down at her and seemed to realize how close they stood, taking a step back.

“Not particularly.” He replied but she could tell his answer was not sincere.

“Don’t be shy, Hux. I’ve seen you fiddling with that camera a time or two,” Rose winced at the sound of Mr. Snoke’s voice. She had, for a moment, almost forgotten he was there.

“I’m a poor excuse for a repairman, sir, can’t seem to fix it.” Hux replied.

“Maybe Miss Tico can take a look at it,” Rose glanced at Hux who had moved to the other side of the desk, his hands in his pocket. He seemed figgity and she wondered when was the last time he had a cigarette.

“Perhaps,” Hux replied noncommittally.

Rose worked diligently trying to find the root of the problem. Soon enough she found a detached wire. She reattached it with relative ease and started to reassemble the lamp with care. Distantly she heard the door open and a man entered the room. She assumed it was Mitaka but when she glanced up it was none other than the Giant. His presence loomed large, his quiet observation filling all the corners of the room.

“Ah Ren, meet Miss Tico,” Mr. Snoke gestured to Rose.

“Good to meet you, Miss Tico,” he said politely and, to Rose’s great shock, gave her a small smile. She smiled in reply and nodded a greeting. Hux gave Ren a look that only made the man smile wider.

Once the lamp was reassembled Rose plugged it into the wall and turned it on. To her relief the lightbulb flickered on, illuminating the colored glass. Small green shapes dotted the walls of the office, light danced through the different shades of green. It made her think of sunshine through trees, or the way the setting sun shone through grass.

“Excellent, Miss Tico! You are a true talent.” Mr. Snoke clapped in delight at his fixed lamp.

“Now back to work, my dear.” She scrambled and grabbed her tools as quickly as possible, eager to leave the office.

“I’ll escort you back to the floor, Miss Tico,” She looked up to see Hux waiting for her. He picked up her bag of tools and led her out of the office and toward the stairs. As they entered the empty stairwell he turned to her.

“Rose, I’m sorry,” his jaw was tight and he did not look her in the eyes.

“Hux, there is no need for you to apologize you were as trapped as I was,” she tried to smile up at him but she knew it looked weak, just a pathetic quirk of her lips, nothing more.

“I should have said something,” he reached for her, his long fingers gripping her upper arm, her skin tingled at the warmth.

“What could you have said, Hux? You would have lost your job and mine too, for that matter. People like us have no recourse.” She looked up at him hoping he would understand.

“But I should have defended you. It was a terrible thing he said,” he ran his hand through his hair.

“Nothing I haven’t heard before, as terrible as it was. He was no kinder to you,” she replied.

“I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be used to it, Hux. None of us should have to endure that kind of treatment.”

“It’s the way of the world, Rose.”

“Hux, it doesn’t have to be! We needn’t endure that abuse or be relegated to the rules society has for us.”

“How can that be so, Rose? You said yourself that we are powerless to stop him. That if I dared to defend your honor we would have been out in the street with no income,” he cried, his face flushed and his expressions became animated in his passion.

“We cannot do it alone Hux, we need collective power. Just the two of us alone is nothing but with workers behind us something will change,” Rose countered her own passions mounting.

“Mr. Snoke isn’t the only man who believes that we are nothing. All the world looks down upon people like us. For many folks those words are true and there is little the likes of me and you can do about it. They run the game and we just have to be smarter players than they are. That’s worked for me just fine so far and I’ll be damned if I get kicked out of the game when I’m so close to winning” Hux tightened his grip on her arm moving her as he descended the stairs, as if by moving he would end the conversation.

She laughed.

“Worked for you just fine?! How can you say that? I wouldn’t say what happened up there was _just fine_ , would you?” She watched as his jaw tightened, a muscle in his cheek jumped at the force.

“I’ve heard worse,” Hux’s voice had fallen to a deadly whisper as he guided her down to the factory floor.

“So have I! That’s why things must change,” Rose planted her feet forcing Hux to stop and turn to her.

“You think that if you play the game just so and kiss the right amount of behinds you too can be a man like Mr. Snoke but you seem to forget that the game is fixed. Because no matter the amount of behinds you kiss and messes you clean up you’ll always be a dumb lug to them, no better than the dirt on their shoe. The world is a game, Mr. Hux, and people like you and me aren’t even players.” For a moment Rose felt triumphant as if she had given that speech at Maz’s coffee shop instead of in the stairwell of the First Order. She felt heat on her cheeks and the pressure of Hux’s fingers as they dug further into her arm, but she could not help the small smile that graced her lips at her small victory.

Hux stared down at her, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. He looked angry, color rising to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Rose’s moment of triumph slipped away and she was left with something that felt like fear. She had forgotten what Hux was. She had forgotten that he was a dangerous man despite his handsome face and kind words.

The silence between them stretched and the air in the stairwell grew thick. All Rose could think about was the way Hux held her close, how his green eyes regarded her, how he smelled of tobacco and the wool of his suit, and how he leaned closer and closer his eyes slipping down to her lips. Before she knew it his lips were on hers.

The sensation was overwhelming. The soft warmth of his lips, the feel of his free hand cupping her cheek to pull her closer, the hot press of his body as he drew her flush against him. She was lost. Her lips slotted into his so perfectly as if they were made for kissing him and nothing more. Her hands hung in the air unsure of where they should land. Before she could think better of it she pulled away.

Hux looked down at her eyes half lidded, breathing as if he just ran a race. Rose thought he looked good enough to eat.

“Rose, I’m so sor-“ she grabbed his lapels and pulled him back before he could apologize. She felt him smile against her lips before he redoubled his efforts.

He pulled her bottom lip in between his teeth, nibbling lightly. Rose let out a low moan of approval and was rewarded by his hands traveling to her waist. She cursed her corset for being just another layer of fabric between her body and his touch but blessed it in the same breath. If he could touch her without a barrier she was sure she would burst into flame.

Distantly she heard a noise, like a door opening, but she was too lost to register it. But Hux was not so lost, apparently, drawing away from her quickly taking a step back trying to pretend at propriety. But there was nothing proper about him. He looked debauched, face flushed, lips moist, hair askew. Rose was sure she was no better.

“Hux!” They looked up to see Ren on top of the stairwell looking down on them, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“Just the man I’m looking for,” he descended the stairs two at a time until he was just above them.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said with a quirk of his brow. Rose could have smacked him.

“No sir, I’ll be on my way,” she said quickly. She looked down at the floor where her bag of tools lay, dropped by Hux in their little moment of passion.

She gathered it and descended the rest of the stairs sparing a glance at Hux. He nodded at her as if nothing had transpired.

“Hope to see you soon, Miss Tico,” Hux said, his voice cool and distant.

“You know where to find me,” she countered, not able to hide her smile. To her delight his face colored and he gave her the tiniest of grins as she opened the door to the factory floor.


	6. Chapter 6

Never in all of Hux’s life had he felt two opposing emotions so acutely. Anger and delight warred within him as he watched Miss Rose Tico slip out the door of the stairwell and back to the factory floor. 

Nothing could truly eclipse the unabated joy that coursed through him. The tremor of excitement of having kissed Rose in that dusty stairwell still sparked across his skin. His body sung at the memory of the contact, at the way she had pulled him close. He could still hear her moan of pleasure ringing in his ears. He could live on that sound for the rest of his life if he had to. 

He did not know what had possessed him to kiss her. Up until the moment their lips met he had been feeling embarrassed and angry, the heat of those emotions coursed through his veins and colored his cheeks. Nothing about his state of mind prior to their passionate kiss would have usually lent itself to such an intimate act. But something about her flushed face, her animated gestures, the way she dressed him down, it all created an intoxicating sight. It was strange how one passion could so quickly turn into another.

In the part of Hux’s brain that had become adept at lying to him, was the ludicrous thought that he only kissed her to make her stop talking. That his desire for her was a selfish and petty thing born of a desperation for silence and a desire for feminine affection. But deep down Hux knew that thought was false. He knew in his heart of hearts that Rose Tico, in all her righteous fury and passion, was someone who stirred him beyond all comprehension. Thoughts of her were not filled with unconscious lust but with unabated admiration. 

But at the sight of Ren’s smug grin all those joyous thoughts scuttled off to some corner of his mind for later examination. 

“So I see the situation in Snoke’s office didn’t dampen your lady’s ardor,” Ren said as he practically skipped down the stairs to the landing below Hux. 

“You’re a juvenile idiot,” Hux grumbled as he sauntered down the stairs behind him. His fingers twitched at his side. He needed a cigarette. 

“And you're a lovesick fool,” Ren replied but his voice held little malice, it almost sounded like friendly teasing. Hux brushed that idea aside, it was almost too ridiculous to contemplate.

“I don’t recall asking for your input, Ren.”

“I don’t recall needing your permission.”

They exited the building walking out into the crisp autumn air. It was slightly overcast, the sun struggled and occasionally succeeded in peeking out behind grey clouds. Ren took out a pack of cigarettes handing one to Hux without comment. Hux accepted it, taking a match out of his pocket and striking it against the brick wall. 

“Looks like you’re in a bit of a pickle there, Hux,” Ren said after he took a long drag off of his cigarette. 

“Is that so?” Hux replied with dry disinterest.

“I would say. Based on that display in the stairwell you got it bad for that little rebel,” Ren was grinning again. He had positioned himself against the wall, resting on it with practiced ease. He surveyed the street never glancing at Hux, though Hux felt his judgement on him.

“If this is your way of trying to usurp my position at First Order, I would advise against it. I’m not an easily distracted man,” Hux replied, taking another long drag off of his cigarette. He noticed it was smoother than what he was used to, the tobacco more expensive than the kind he bought. 

“Last time I checked I wasn’t the one distracting you. Unless you have something to tell me?” Ren’s face remained impassive save for a twinkle of humor in his eye.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I have better taste,” Hux responded. To his great surprise Ren let out a bark of laughter. Even more surprisingly Hux found himself chuckling along with him. 

“I don’t remember you being this funny,” Ren replied as he dropped the butt of his cigarette stamping out the flame with the heel of his boot. 

“I don’t recall us having many friendly conversations in the past,” Hux replied, stamping out his own cigarette on the pavement. 

“I suppose you’re right,” Ren stepped away from the wall to face Hux. He stood, stooped his hands shoved in his pockets as he regarded him. For the first time in their long acquaintance Hux didn’t feel completely overwhelmed by his presence though he still felt the oppressive weight of the unease between them.

“I have something to say to you, Hux, and I’m not sure how to go about so I’m just going to spit it out, alright?” Ren blurted out to Hux’s great surprise.

“By all means, proceed,” Hux replied with a mocking sweep of his arm. Ren frowned a little at the gesture but continued.

“I’m...well what I want to say is...what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry,” Hux reared back. He felt his face pull into a frown and his brows furrow. What the fuck was happening? 

“What the fuck are you going on about?” Hux eyes narrowed as he regarded Ren. His expression had turned sheepish, almost childish. A faint blush danced across his face and he looked down at his boots. 

“I just, I thought I owed you an apology for how I have treated you in the past.” Hux searched his mind for all the things that had transpired between them. All the fights and beatings Ren had leveled at him when they were training. All the distrust and subterfuge as they scrambled to be Snoke’s favorite.

In their younger years Ren has been brutal, his meaty fists leaving marks on Hux’s skin. Hux liked to think he held no real animus toward the man, any anger he felt toward him was a sign of personal weakness. But he couldn’t help but feel some festering remnants of disdain toward Ren. Though scrappy, Hux had never been a powerful man, every fight between Ren and him had been unfair. Ren was a brute, an accomplished pugilist. Hux had only the slapdash training of a skinny child fighting for every slice of bread. And in every fight Ren gave no quarter.

Hux pretended that their animosity was born of professional competitiveness but always at the center was an anger that came from some sense of betrayal. Somewhere in the back of his mind Hux always assumed that Ren and him were brothers in arms, unified in a cause, and every time Ren had stepped on him to get to the top he destroyed any sense of fraternity. Every fist reminded him that they were not the same.

“You treated me as you should have. We were competitors, still are,” Hux looked away from Ren shoving his hand in his pocket, the taste of his lie bitter on his tongue. He wrapped his fingers around the cigarette there, contemplating if he should light it.

“We don’t need to be,” was Ren’s soft reply. Hux felt light headed as confusion swirled within him. What was Ren’s game? Why in Christ’s name was he saying such things?  _ Apologizing _ ? It all felt surreal. 

“For Christ’s sake, Ren. What the hell are you going on about?” Hux was aware he was repeating himself, that he might look like some dense fool but he could not for the life of him understand this turn of events. 

“I’m trying to offer you a sincere apology but you’re too much of a goddamn shmuck to accept it!” Ren threw his arms out, exacerbated. 

“I understand that! But why now? After all this time? Why all of a sudden are you righting wrongs?” Hux watched as Ren grew still, his jaw clenching. There was a long pause as if Ren was gathering something inside of himself.

“You know I never saw you smile,  _ truly  _ smile, until a few days ago. I’ve known you, what, twelve years? And in all that time you never cracked a fucking grin,” every word that was coming out of Ren’s mouth was as confusing as the last. Hux felt unmoored by all of this, a boat at sea dangerously close to jagged rocks.

“Christ on the cross,” Hux muttered under his breath more to himself than to Ren. 

“I know this sounds odd. I know I’m not making any sense but just hear me out, alright?” Hux cleared his throat and nodded, extracting the cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. He couldn’t help notice how harsh the smoke felt compared to the cigarette Ren had given him.

“When I saw you with Miss Tico, now and the time before, you looked more at ease than I’ve seen you. You seemed less alone.” Hux watched Ren now, eyes never leaving him. He had begun to pace, never able to lift his eyes towards Hux. They roamed restlessly, scanning the street around them, glancing up toward the windows of the factory. 

“I just...we have been trained to be lonely men, Hux. When I was a kid my uncle used to tell me that there were no great men. That the greatest lie that humanity ever told was that the universe was built on the backs of single minded men. That all the pyramids in Egypt, all the empires of the world, all art and culture can be traced back to a few great men. And for so long I believed the lie and ignored everything my uncle ever revealed to me. I believed we were alone in the world, that we lived and died by our own actions and so many people told me I was right.

This whole nation is built on that lie. The lure of this country is that great goddamn lie. Your parents, my grandparents, all of them came here thinking that lie was true and it’s fucking not!” Ren’s face had turned red. His pacing had quickened and he acted as if Hux was no longer there. Hux thought he looked and sounded a bit like Mr. Skywalker albeit less eloquent. 

“The pharaohs had nothing to do with the pyramids they were buried in but they get all the credit. Nations and empires are nothing without scores and scores of desperate men and women making them so. Art, culture, all of that is molded by thousands of hands not just two. The truth, Hux, is the world was built by people like you and me. The fucking truth is we don’t do anything alone. We are a product of our time and the people around us and I’m just fucking sick and tired of pretending that that’s not the case.” He had turned to Hux then, finally looking into his eyes. Hux regarded him for a long moment. 

Ren had never said much in the time Hux knew him. He was usually deathly quiet, his silence an oppressive force. His little speech was likely the most Hux had ever heard from him in all twelve years of their acquaintance, combined. 

“What’s your point, Ren?” Ren sighed and let out an uncomfortable chuckle, running his hands through his messy hair. 

“My point, Hux, is I am tired of being alone in all this. And I think you are too. And I also think we should perhaps take Miss Tico and her friends’ words a little more seriously.” 

To say this was not where Hux thought this conversation would end was an understatement. The winding path that Ren led him down had always been unclear but to arrive at this conclusion felt wildly incongruous with everything Hux thought he knew about Ren. He supposed  _ thought  _ was the operative word. He was beginning to realize that much of what he assumed about his world was beginning to be proven false.

“What does this have to do with us? With our relationship, as it were?” Hux asked as he pushed himself off the wall.

“I want to try to be friends. I want us to work together not against each other. We have larger fish to fry.”

“What kind of fish are we talking about?” Ren looked up to the top floor of the factory, toward Mr. Snoke’s office.

“The big fish,” Ren replied with a smile. Hux raised a brow.

“Are you suggesting mutiny?” Ren had the wherewithal to blush.

“Not precisely.”

“What are you suggesting? Because from where I’m standing it sounds as if you wish me to give up all that I have achieved for a  _ friendship _ with the likes of you.” Hux kept his voice smooth and his emotions carefully covered but he could not help the way his cheeks colored or the flash in his eyes as he regarded Ren.

“Not just with me, Hux,” Ren replied quietly. Hux’s cheeks colored for a different reason this time.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Do you think she will continue your little flirtation if you continue down this path? Do you think that you will live happily-ever-after with her if you continue to work for Snoke, letting him abuse her day in and day out so you two can keep the meager wages he doles out?” Hux cleared his throat and looked down at the pavement. Shame and anger coarsed through him as his mind traveled back to that moment in Snoke’s office, of how Rose’s beautiful brown eyes dimmed at Snoke’s words. He wanted the world to swallow him whole just so he would never have to experience such pain again.

“How can I be expected to throw everything away? You and Miss Tico ask too much of me. You have no inkling of how far I have come, what I have had to do to be where I am today.” The mask Hux had been wearing slipped. His emotions overwhelmed him and he felt desperate. He has stepped forward, his finger pointing accusingly in Ren’s face. He expected anger in return but saw something worse, pity. 

“You’re right, I have no idea what it is like to live as you have. To fight for every slice of bread, to suffer indignities just so you can survive until the next day. And Miss Tico only understands a fraction more than I do. But all we want, all Miss Tico and her friends want, is for you to have to work a little less desperately for a lot more.”

“Don’t you dare pity me.” Hux’s voice had dipped to a deadly whisper. It had been a long time since he had felt moved to violence on his own behalf but the need to lash out ichted beneath his skin. 

“I’m not pitying you, Hux. Understanding and empathy is not pity. Don’t let your pride get in your way. Trust me, I know the damage it can do.” Hux huffed, feeling deflated. His anger had melted into embarrassment and discomfort. Ren’s kindness felt odd and disquieting. But Hux could not shake a growing sense of relief as if he could begin to unburden himself.

“All these cryptic allusions to your past have grown tiresome, Ren.” Hux ran his hands through his hair as if he could press his emotions down with the action. The forgotten cigarette in his hand had burned to his fingers, stinging as it singed his skin. He dropped it and crushed it under his heel.

“My apologies but they will stay cryptic for the time being,” Ren’s lips had thinned and Hux was reminded of the violent and serious man he knew Ren to be.

“So I am supposed to upend my life for your revolutionary passions. Passions that you seemed to recently come into, I might add. And I am to receive nothing from you, no revealed secrets, no  _ friendly _ confidences.”

“We need trust between us,” Ren replied quietly.

“Trust! That’s fucking rich! What trust can there be between us? How am I supposed to trust a man who beat me with regularity for most of my formative years? Hmm? Am I supposed to forget about that, Ren? Let bygones be bygones?” Ren had the grace to blush and look away at Hux’s words. 

“Forgiveness is not forgetting,” Ren replied. Something about the way he said it made Hux believe they were words Ren had heard and said many times before. 

“It will be a time before I can forgive,” Hux felt exhausted, he felt as if the fight with him was draining. 

“That’s alright. I understand,” Ren replied sadly. He looked like an overgrown child. He had shrunk throughout this conversation as if his presence was no longer looming but fit into the natural world. Hux was reminded that Ren was just a man, not a monster, but a human being who had wounds and secrets that Hux was not privy to. He felt that understanding that Ren had spoken of blossom within him. A part of him reached toward Ren, toward that almost forgotten desire for fraternity that he had harbored as a young man. 

“So the mighty Ren has turned into some bleeding heart unionist? How long has your doubt been brewing?” Ren glanced up, a hopeful look crossed his face. He studied Hux for a long moment seemingly trying to gauge his demeanor. Hux let his mouth quirk in a friendly gesture and watched as Ren let out a long breath a small smile pulling at the edges of his mouth.

“For a time. The doubt has ebbed and flowed for a while now. I had always assumed that by joining Snoke, by becoming part of the machine of capital that I was somehow rebelling. I was rebelling against my parents, against the idea of collective struggle, and toward the power of the individual. But I had no power as an individual, all my power was an illusion,” Ren’s voice had turned contemplative. 

“Have you and Miss Tico entered a conspiracy against me?” Ren quirked his brow in question.

“You sound a lot like her,” Hux elaborated.

“She’s a smart woman,” Ren replied.

“She is indeed, that’s why I believe you are in cahoots. You’re not nearly as intelligent.” Ren laughed, he seemed relieved by Hux’s turn toward teasing humor. 

Hux could get used to this. The teasing between Ren and himself had begun to feel comfortable. He felt a warmth spread in him that was not completely unfamiliar. It was a twin to the feeling that also coursed through him when Rose was around. The idea that Ren and Hux could be something like friends was not as awful as Hux thought it would be. The moments of camaraderie that they had shared over the past few days were strange but not unwelcome. 

“I’m unfamiliar with the notion of friendship, Ren. I doubt I’ll be any good at it,” Hux said after a moment. Ren smiled, a large bright thing that made his face light up in a way Hux had never really seen. It was strangely infectious.

“I’m sure I won’t be much better.”

“Yes, you are not skilled at much,” Hux replied with a grin. Ren smiled again and clapped Hux on the shoulder. The action was perhaps a bit too forceful for friendly affection but Hux understood its purpose. 

****

The rest of Hux’s day felt as if he was walking through a dense fog. Every movement was slow and labored, every breath was too loud in his ears. He felt too aware of his body of how he moved through the world. He had never been at ease completely. He was an overly intense man at best and awkward one at worst. His conversation with Ren had left him on the extreme side of awkward. Nothing felt as it should.

To be fair he had been on rocky ground the moment he met Rose Tico. She had been a catalyst for this extreme unease. She had barrelled through him, through all his defenses and carefully constructed ways of being. He had been a very different man before he met Rose. He was less introspective, incurious, uninterested in anything beyond himself and his desires. She had changed that fundamentally. Until her arrival he had very little interest in anyone. He did not care to know another person and now he found that all he could think about were other people. Rose, Ren, even Rose’s little band of rebels held a certain interest. Their kindness, despite knowing who he was, was fascinating. Never in his life had he been so quickly accepted. 

And then there was Ren. Never in all his wild imaginings could he have anticipated the turn their relationship took. Never did he think they would get over their mutual distrust. And yet Ren had reached out for him, for something besides loneliness and isolation.

In Hux’s more cynical interpretation of events, Ren reached out because Hux was the closest thing to a friend he had. It often felt that their adversarial relationship was the nearest they would come to any form of human intimacy. But a voice in the back of his mind, one that sounded suspiciously like Rose, told him that there was more to it than that. Ren reached out because they were so similar, so like one another. Hux and Ren were two sides of the same coin. They were two men who floated outside of the world, outside of community and yet deep down desperately desired it. Two men so afraid of themselves that they tried their hardest to live as if they didn’t exist at all. 

Hux understood better than anyone the desire to escape the self. His work for the First Order was an attempt to be rid of the skinny little Irish boy who had no place in the world around him. With the First Order, with wealth and power, he would no longer be the son of an angry drunk and a laundress but a man to be reckoned with. He always imagined with enough money and respect his past would disappear but it was becoming clear the past was never really the past. The past was context. It did not exist separately from him just as he could no longer exist separate from himself. He was that skinny boy, he was his father's son, but he was also his mother’s. He could be the sweet child that she had raised not just the angry boy his father created. 

But to let go of that anger felt like letting go of an essential part of who he was. His anger at the world, at humanity, for all he had to do to survive, still warred within him. The allure of community danced with his long held desire for self isolation. To know someone was to be attached to them and to be attached to them made it all the more difficult when they finally left. The inconsistency of human nature was a risk. All relationships were tenuous, they lived on a knife’s edge. His anger was a good shield against the eventual disappointment that came with loss. If he was angry, cruel, alone no human being could truly affect him. No one would have any power over him. 

Ren and Rose both spoke of community with reverence. They both seemed to have the unshakable conviction that community was necessary and essential. Where was that essential community for Hux? No one rallied around a poor boy with bruises and no one helped the young man who fell down at the feet of a much stronger opponent. The weak were crushed under the heel of humanity, no one helped those who didn’t help themselves. 

Community was an illusion and yet Hux could not help but feel the pull of it. All of Ren’s talk of loneliness, of the emptiness of isolation, spoke to Hux. Deep inside he knew the allure of Rose was not just her beauty but the idea of someone who cared for him, cared about him, in a way he hadn't been cared for in a very long time. And Ren held a similar promise. He was someone that would care about the fate of Hux, about his life and struggles. It was strange to feel that pull for him, strange to awaken that need for fraternity that Hux had thought was buried long ago. 

These rummanitions pinged about his mind as he went about his day. Every step he took was haunted by thoughts of self or his place in the world interspersed with thoughts of Rose and Ren. It made him anxious. He smoked the rest of his pack of cigarettes in quick succession trying to still his shaking hands. 

It was approaching dark as he made his way home from the factory. The changing seasons shortened the days but Hux could not complain. He welcomed the crisper air and the leaves turning from green to amber. He even enjoyed the bareness of winter. There was something achingly beautiful about naked trees standing out against grey skies. Inevitably he would grow sick of it, like everyone else, and wish for the return of warmer weather. But he could never deny the twinge of excitement at the changing weather. 

As he made his way through the streets of the Lower East Side, he shimmied past others who bustled down the street trying to get to their various destinations. In the setting light they all looked as if they glowed, warm hues of orange light danced across their skin. Everyone looked beautiful in waning sunlight. Cheeks were made rosey from crisp air and smiles graced the lips of many, happy to be released from their dull factory jobs, even if it was just for the evening. Ladies walked quickly, the feathers and flowers in their hats bouncing with their quick steps. Children laughed as they darted through the streets making their way home before dark settled. 

In moments like this, Hux felt less bitter about living in the city. He felt the warmth of it. A metropolis like New York often felt icy and lonely but today, in the glow of the setting sun, it was warm and welcoming in a way that was rarely seen by a simple observer, but was apparent only to those who had an eye for it. This was not the first time that Hux had glimpsed this side of the city but he could not recall the last time it was made visible to him. 

He stopped at the grocers on the corner not far from his boarding house. It was owned by a kindly old Jewish couple who stocked it with various dried goods, cheeses, and produce. They were training their grandson to assume the family business. Though Hux was well acquainted with the old woman who often clerked, more and more he ran into the boy. He had not known that he was so attached to the old woman until she slipped away behind the scenes only coming out every once and awhile to stock shelves and check in on her grandson when the store became too busy.

Today it was the boy who took his post as clerk. He stood at the counter flipping through a sporting magazine as he chomped on some nuts. Hux made his way through the mostly empty store, picking up some apples and cheese as he made his way to the counter. 

“Hello, handsome!” Came a voice from the back. Hux startled as the old woman came bustling out with loaves of bread in her arms. Flour turned her dark black dress into a soft grey in places. Her long white hair wrapped around her head in braids making her look strangely youthful, ethereal in appearance. 

“Just picked these up from the bakery, want one?” She asked, practically shoving the loaf into Hux’s hand. They smelled fresh and he could feel the warmth of them through the brown paper bag. 

“Seems I have no choice.” 

“Correct, handsome. You need fattening up.” She said with a grin. He wondered if it was too late to ask her name. 

“How much do I owe you,” he asked instead, digging into his pockets as he tried to find change. She made a disgruntled noise waving away his change as if it annoyed her.

“It’s a gift.” She said. And as quickly as she came she left, giving her grandson a kiss on the cheek and a wave to Hux as she exited. 

The boy at the counter looked embarrassed by the display of affection and rubbed at his flushed cheek. Hux deposited his wares on the counter and asked for a pack of cigarettes. The boy retrieved the pack he usually bought and Hux wondered for a moment if he should treat himself to a better brand, the taste of Ren’s better tobacco still fresh in his memory.

“Hux?” Called a soft feminine voice. He turned to see Rose, her arms full of vegetables and a small bouquet of flowers. She smiled brightly at him as she approached the counter, her eyes crinkling at the corners as her full cheeks colored. She was truly the most beautiful woman Hux had ever laid eyes on. 

“How do you do, Miss Tico?” He asked, a smile on his lips.

“I’m doing rather well, Mr. Hux. Had a rather extraordinary day, as it were.” Her smile grew playful as she placed her vegetables, gingerly, on the counter.

“Is that so?”

“Indeed. It started off rather badly but took a very surprising turn.”

“A pleasant surprise I hope,” he could feel his cheeks coloring as they continued this teasing conversation but he did not care. He wanted to hear every word she had to say. 

“Oh very pleasant,” her voice was soft as she said it, her eyes never leaving his. He felt as if he had floated away on a cloud, no longer in a dingy grocery store but rather on his way to Paradise. The young clerk cleared his throat, shattering the moment. Hux turned to him with a deadly glare. The boy had the grace to look apologetic.

“Will that be all, sir?”

“I’ll take the ladies vegetables and flowers as well,” Hux said with a wave of his hand as he dug into his pocket for his money. 

“That’s not necessary,” Rose said as she tried to pull her groceries toward her, as if protecting them from Hux’s generosity. 

“Please, allow me,” Hux replied as he tried to wrestle the wares from her grasp.

“It’s too generous. I can pay for them myself,” her tone was firm, eyes narrowing. 

“At least allow me to buy your flowers. I hear it’s the done thing,” she blushed as she slowly relinquished the small bouquet.

“Thank you,” she said softly. She had moved to stand closer to him, not quite touching but close enough that he felt her warmth.

The clerk finished their transaction, slipping Rose’s vegetables into a basket. She took it with a smile and turned to Hux who waited for her by the door. 

They stepped out into the autumn evening together. It had grown chillier in the fading light, the air nipped at Hux’s nose and made Rose’s cheeks flush. 

“Hello Mr.Hux! Pleasure to see you again,” Hux looked up to see Rey rushing toward them, her hand waving wildly as she greeted him.

“Good evening, Miss Rey,” he replied with a mock bow in her direction. She giggled in response as she dipped into a curtsy. 

“Oh so formal, Mr.Hux.”

“Only in the presence of such fine ladies,” they laughed in response. The lightness of the moment felt strange but not unwelcome. Rey treated him like an old friend, like someone she was happy to see. 

“Yes, indeed. The finest ladies this side of the Atlantic. It’s nice to know that someone finally recognizes our worth!” Rey teased. She linked arms with Rose, the both of them grinning at each other. The look was full of affection, of sisterly kindness. The love between them was something to marvel at, it felt like staring at the sun: too bright and achingly beautiful.

Rey looked from Hux to Rose for a moment. Her eyes began to sparkle and the dimple in her cheek appeared as a sly grin slipped into place.

“You know, Rosie dear. I have someplace to be. Maybe Mr.Hux could walk you home?” Rose’s brow furrowed in confusion, her head tilted in question.

“Where do you have to be, Rey?” 

“Oh you know, here and there. Resistance business.” She replied noncommittally, her hand fluttering as she attempted to brush aside any suspicion.

“Should I go? Is it something I can help with?” Rose asked earnestly. Rey looked at her, a slight frown on her lips as her eyes went wide. 

“No, Rosie,” she tilted her head toward Hux and continued to look at Rose with comically wide eyes as if she could project her meaning across them. Rose frowned and her brow furrowed deeper as they stared at each other. Finally something clicked and a blush blossomed on Rose’s cheeks.

“Oh yes of course! How could I forget.” Rose exclaimed. 

“So forgetful, dearie! You’d lose your head if it weren’t attached,” Rey said as she playfully nudged Rose with her hip.

“Yes, indeed. Would you mind walking me home, Mr.Hux?”

“I would be delighted,” he replied.

“What a gentleman!” Rey exclaimed, her voice light and teasing.

“Thank you, Mr.Hux,” Rose said with a smile. He felt the warmth of that smile envelop him.

“The pleasure is mine,” he held out his elbow so she could hook her hand in the crook. Her hand slipped in easily and for a moment he cursed the layers of fabric that stood between his skin and hers. 

“Well I know when I’m no longer needed. I’ll see you at home, Rosie. Nice to see you again, Mr. Hux.” And with a wave Rey left, leaving Hux and Rose alone on the busy street.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on the garbage fire known as Twitter! I’m @friendofdimpy come for the Star Wars discourse stay for the poorly executed jokes!


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